12. Githany
Githany
“We’re yours, Githany.”
The strange and comforting sensation of their arms around me begins to evaporate.
That sex was…indescribable. Scary as hell and at the same time, the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Truthfully? There were times when I wasn’t even sure who was inside me.
What they were doing was so hot that my brain felt like it was boiling.
Honestly so hot I might have permanent brain damage from some kind of sex fever.
Cozied up in their arms—scaly, smoky, leathery arms—is actually nice.
These guys have done absolutely nothing to make me feel safe tonight.
In fact, they’ve gone out of their way to do the exact opposite.
Chase me, crush me, bite me, cut me. Which is why this overwhelming sense of security feels so out of place.
Belonging to a trio of fear demons sounds like a nightmare. I’m discovering, through excessive amounts of monster peen and mind-blowing orgasms, that it’s more like a dream. This feeling, snuggled amongst their spines and sharp teeth…I like it.
Happiness floats through my system. It’s brief. I have to remind myself. Someone like me doesn’t get to be happy.
“I can’t have you. I can’t have anyone. I-I’m cursed.” It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. It’s the truth.
The wheel of death spins in my memories.
The girls from camp, my parents, the first boy I kissed, my roommate freshman year, both of my college boyfriends.
The only reason the list hasn’t grown is because I haven’t gotten too close to anyone else.
My relationship with Amber guilts me on a daily basis.
I didn’t intend to form a friendship with her.
The right thing to do would be to move out and get as far away from her as possible. If I don’t, she’ll end up like all the rest.
“I don’t want you three to die. Everyone in my life dies.”
“How?” Hunt asks, frowning.
“It’s not always the same.”
“Yes it is.” Madness cocks a brow, his eyes narrowing.
“No, it isn’t. Sometimes it’s an animal attack. Other times they vanish and their body just turns up. There are car crashes… They just die.”
“Oh, Githany.” Gator shakes his head. Small flecks of residual water flick off his bumpy scales. “You’re safe now. It’s time for you to know.”
“Know what?”
“I saw something earlier tonight. Before I cleaned up your blood and took you home. We’ve all come to realize you’re something else.” Gator brushes his fingers across my blue collarbone. “We’ve seen the truth. Madness?”
Madness pulls me in closer. Darkness wraps around my arms and waist, squeezing gently. He taps a wispy finger along my temple. “We need to go inside now. Things are waiting to come out.”
There’s a wriggling sensation in my head, my synapses squirming in response to his touch. A steady pressure grows behind my sinuses. Any minute my thoughts are going to come spilling out of my eyes and ears like worms. I can see it now, piles of writhing accusations and guilt.
“What will happen once they do?” Why am I trembling like crazy? Madness squeezes around me. The tightness of his coiling presence is grounding.
“You will be you,” Hunt answers.
“And you will be ours,” Gator adds.
“Do you want that?” Madness strokes my chin. “You will be free but you will be different.”
“I’ll still be me?”
“You’ll be more you than you are right now.” Madness’s words only further confuse me.
Hunt grazes a hand up the length of my arm. The blue skin seems to glare up at me. A reminder that there’s something very wrong with me. “See this? There’s something different about you, Githany. Let us show you.”
Madness taps at my temple again, awaiting my permission. Apprehension shreds my stomach. A sour metallic taste fills my dry mouth. The shaking of my limbs has grown so fierce that I’d likely fall to the ground if they weren’t holding me up.
I don’t understand any of this. There’s something, beyond the trembling and nausea, that’s fighting to break free. Past the voice of uncertainty. Deeper inside.
My monsters peer down at me, confident and close.
I’m afraid to move forward. But after tonight, I can’t imagine going back without answers.
Nodding to Madness feels like an out-of-body experience. His fingers press against the sides of my face. Tears blur my vision. Why does this feel so much like goodbye?
My gaze jumps between the three as a sudden burst of panic overtakes my acceptance. “Am I going to die?”
Madness’s voice is a whisper inside my mind. “No, ghost girl. You are about to be reborn.”
The room vanishes, taking my monsters with it. Dark, quiet. I spend a few seconds in shocked silence. Did they lie to me? Am I dead? I don’t want to go back to that room of dolls.
The shimmering outline of a door takes shape to my left. Simple and wooden, with three words carved into it: “Black Bear Cabin.”
My stomach drops out. The summer camp I went to didn’t number its cabins. It gave them all the names of local wildlife. The Black Bear Cabin is where I stayed. It’s where everything changed.
Before I can move, the door swings wide. A gust of air rushes out, bringing with it the scent of pine and campfire smoke. A second gust blows into the open door, so strong that my feet are lifted off the ground. I’m sucked in, tumbling head over heels.
Children’s voices overlap, all shouting and laughing.
No, no. Don’t take me back. Don’t take me there.
It’s hopeless. There is nothing I can do to stop from being hurled back in time.
The sensation of slamming into the floor is muted, both physically and audibly. The pain that should be firing up my tailbone is absent. My arrival does not echo through the cabin. No one looks my way. I’m a silent observer.
A gangly blonde girl in pink cat pajamas runs past me. I take a quick step back to avoid collision.
I’m not fast enough to dodge the girl chasing after her. Instead of bumping into me though, she passes straight through me.
“You cannot change the past.” Madness’s voice glides through the cabin. Is he here? The bunks and corners are empty. Four glowing eyes in the darkened window are the only tell that my shadowy monster is nearby.
“What am I doing here?”
“Learning. Now watch.”
My insides twist when I first spot myself. Purple heart pajamas and frizzy brown hair. The younger me is reading. Probably something with unicorns and magic. A commotion in the center of the room draws both of our stares. Kristy pulls the Ouija board from her duffle bag.
I’m gonna throw up.
Bounding off my bunk, I race to join the others huddled around it on the floor.
“Don’t do it. Don’t touch it. Please,” I beg my younger self.
“It is already done,” Madness reminds me.
My hands land on the planchette first. Why was I so eager to play this game? A majority of the girls huddle around the board. Three girls stand farther back, their anxious expressions betraying their fear of what we’re about to do.
One of them keeps glancing toward the door. I wish she had said something. Run and tattled to a camp counselor. Saved us all.
Squeals of delight fill the room as the planchette moves. We all wanted it to be true, but of course one of the players is always sliding it. I never believed it was actually moving on its own.
The anxious girl takes a step toward the door. Hope soars in me. She might go and tell someone.
“Hope and memories do not mix. What’s done is done.”
Madness’s red gaze brightens as the cabin lights flicker.
It’s happening.
Staring into my younger self’s face makes my heart shatter.
My expression goes from excited to terrified in a matter of seconds.
The lights turn on and off again and again.
An unnatural wind picks up within the cabin, whipping up our hair and tossing clothing and journals around the space.
The anxious girl yanks the door wide. Others follow her out. They run, screaming into the night.
I am the last one left. I remember feeling frozen, like my fingers were glued to the planchette.
The lights go out completely and do not turn back on again.
What happened from this moment until I woke up on the bank of the lake has always been a mystery.
Now, I watch. A hand bursts from the board. Long, pale fingers cover mine where they’re stuck to the planchette. My eyes go so wide they look as if my lids will split open. The top of a head pushes upward, followed by a dripping, tangled mass of long, black hair.
Another arm breaks free and grabs my shoulder. Tears and snot pour down my face. My mouth is moving. What was I saying in those terrifying moments? The wind is too loud for me to hear.
The body continues to rise, revealing a bony torso.
The hands move higher, gripping the sides of my face.
My younger self looks absolutely petrified.
The hair of the thing holding onto me hangs in front of it, obscuring its face.
Without warning, it shoves the fingers of its right hand into my mouth, forcing my jaw open wide.
My body finally awakens and starts to fight back.
The thing never relents. The second hand edges into my already-gaping mouth, pushing it to a width that twists my youthful features into something unrecognizable.
Slowly, as I convulse and writhe and cry, the thing sinks inside of me. First the arms, then the head. My face is completely torn open by the time the torso disappears. Hips and legs slither down my throat, until no trace is left of the thing from the board.
My younger body crumples to the floor. A blue light envelops my motionless form. Small soft beams spill out of my mangled face, encircling it. The thing is knitting me back together.
Shifting and cracking. Skin slips on. My face is back in one piece again.
The blue light fades.
A scream rips out of my younger self, so feral and anguished that my present self screams as well. Younger me sits up, clamoring to her feet. I want to run to her, comfort her after that fucked-up experience.